Ferris Wheels Have No Souls
by Muggle Jane
Summary: There's another celebration party and Hermione just doesn't want to go- and, surprisingly, neither does someone else. Oneshot, written for the Duct Tape Competition


**A/N: Nothing recognizable belongs to me. Written for the Duct Tape Challenge and the first round of the Hunger Games Competition.  
**

It was great being a war hero and all. Of course it was. The Order of Merlin Second Class was sitting in a box in the drawer of my nightstand, beside a book or two and a Dreamless Sleep Potion, ready to be pulled out on a moment's notice when "official" guests were coming over. And by "official" guests, I meant anyone who insisted that I should be proud of myself and the entire Wizarding world was eternally grateful to me and why wasn't I getting out more, by the way, because "everyone" loved seeing me.

In other words, almost everyone.

No one understood that I was just tired. I'd spent most of the last year in a tent, moving around the countryside, listening to my two best friends gripe at each other. The constant worry about loved ones, the lack of food, the whole running-from-Snatchers, torture, Battle of Hogwarts thing... I was just so tired. I didn't want to go out. I didn't want to paste a smile on my face and listen to one more person tell me how brilliant I was and how much they appreciated what I'd done for them and by the way, how was (and insert a list of everything I didn't want to talk about, including my parents and my relationship with Ron- or lack there of- or what I was going to do now that the war was over).

My hands were tired of being shaken, my ears were tired of the endless platitudes, my mouth was tired of smiling. I was tired.

Which was why, on a Saturday night when there was yet _another_ celebratory something or another, I was sitting at home in my Muggle flat, enjoying a pint of Muggle ice cream and trying very hard to pretend that someone wasn't going to come and knock on my door and "gently encourage" me to get up and join them in whatever "fun activities" were happening that night.

And there it was. The knock on the door. That didn't sound like Ginny's knock, which I knew, nor did it sound like Harry. Or Ron or Molly or Fleur or any one of the people who usually came to roust me from my sofa. No, this was a strange knock. An unfamiliar knock.

I momentarily debated summoning the Order of Merlin to me so I could put it on its place on my mantle, where it went to be exclaimed over whenever guests came to visit, but the drawer was closed and I didn't really want to replace my nightstand.

I sighed heavily and pushed myself to my feet, abandoning my ice cream with the spoon sticking out of it on the end table, and went and opened the door. "Oh!" I exclaimed. I certainly wasn't expecting the Minister of Magic to be standing outside my door. "Hello?" I offered. What was he doing in the hallway outside my flat? "Come in," I added after a moment. He was wearing purple dress robes, and my neighbours would probably start to talk if they saw him.

He walked past me into my flat. He was looking around, he'd never been inside my flat before. "Good evening, Hermione," he greeted me in his deep voice.

"Good evening Min- Kingsley." He'd insisted that I was to call him Kingsley and I still wasn't used to it. It seemed a little strange, being on a first-name basis with the Minister of Magic. I looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to volunteer why he was currently peering around my sitting-room-slash-dining-room-that-opened-onto-the-kitchen. He didn't. "Ah, can I help you with something?" I asked after a long moment of silence.

"Yes," he replied. "You can let me stay here for a while."

"I'm... sorry?"

He stopped looking around and his eyes met mine. "I said I would come and try and get you to join us, but truthfully, I'm hoping you'll tolerate my company until it's too late to go back."

I laughed incredulously. The Minister of Magic wanted to hide from his social duties in my tiny flat. "This is the place to do it," I said. "Of course if we just stay here, at some point someone else will likely come and get us. Probably Molly."

"Do you have another suggestion?"

I considered him for a moment and then I nodded, grinning. "I do. You'll need Muggle clothes, though."

He considered me for a moment and then nodded as well. "I can Apparate us to my home."

"I need a minute to get changed and put my ice cream away and I'll be ready to go." I was purposely dressed flannel pajama bottoms and an over-sized sleep t-shirt so that I could use the excuse, 'But I'm not even dressed.' Depending on who they sent after me it sometimes worked- Harry, especially; his eyes would glaze over as I would go through the list of things I'd done to prepare for the Yule Ball four-and-a-half years ago and he would bow out gracefully.

I changed into jeans and a light pink blouse, thinking as I did so that it was lucky that Kingsley was well-acquainted with Muggle dress. I'd seen some examples of what happened when a member of Wizarding society _wasn't_ and, well, it usually wasn't good. I took the opportunity to remove the Anti-Apparation Charm before tucking my wand into my sleeve.

I walked back out into the sitting room to find him standing where I'd left him with an air of endless patience. He offered me his arm, but I shook my head. "Ice cream." I returned the ice cream to the ice box and rinsed the spoon off before putting it in the sink. Then I took his arm and we Apparated to just outside a rather large house. I looked at him and raised my eyebrows in question.

"My family line is quite old," he said by way of explanation, and I nodded. I knew what that meant. Most of the older pureblood Wizarding families had vaults full of gold just like Harry's. He led me inside and it was my turn to peer around curiously while he went and put on more appropriate clothes. He had excellent taste; his house was all dark wood and burgundy with enough peach and cream to keep it from being cave-like. His own Order of Merlin was noticeably missing from his rather grand sitting room which, incidentally, would have fit my entire flat inside with room to spare.

He came back into the room and I had to grin when I saw him. "I never thought I would see you in jeans," I told him. He was very proper; even when I'd seen him on the telly helping the Prime Minister, he'd always worn a formal suit.

He gestured to me. "I took my cue from you. Out of curiosity, where are we going?"

"There's a festival going on right now in the town I grew up in and they'll never think to look for us there." I followed him back out of the house and outside the front gate where I took his arm. This time it was me Disapparating us away.

I made sure we arrived far enough away that our sudden appearance wouldn't draw any notice, but I could still hear the noise calling out to us- the yells of the barkers, the tinny music of the games and rides.

"They certainly won't look for us here," he agreed as we walked towards the festival grounds.

"Why are you skiving off the party?" I asked him, my hand still on his arm.

He was silent for a moment. "I assume for the same reason as you. I'm very weary of all it. The pomp, the ceremony, the pictures, the same conversations over and over again." I nodded. I could definitely empathize with that. He looked around us. "Why weren't you here instead of sitting in your flat with your pajamas and ice cream?"

I sighed heavily. We were surrounded by people now, and I gestured my hand at them. "Everyone here is with friends or loved ones, see? It makes me feel incredibly lonely to go places where no one else is alone, by myself. I like _quiet_, not so much being alone." I spotted something. "There! Have you ever had candy floss?"

He shook his head and let me lead him over to the giant spinning machine. I exchanged some Muggle money for a paper cone topped with a puffy cloud of the pink spun sugar. "Try some."

He eyed it dubiously. "How do you eat it?"

"Just pull some off." I demonstrated, taking a small pinch of it and letting it melt in my mouth. He followed suit. "Muggles do some marvelous things," he praised and had some more.

He let me show him around the festival. We played a couple of games- and lost abysmally. The Ferris wheel made him a little pale. I asked him how it was different than a Thestral or a broom and he told me it had no soul, just like a car.

We stayed until it closed down the night. It was well and truly too late to go back to the celebratory whatever that we'd both been hiding from and he Apparated us back to my flat.

"I honestly never thought that you'd be the type of person I could pop out for a pint with," I told him as we settled down in my sitting room.

"We didn't 'pop out for a pint,'" he replied, amusement in his voice.

"No, but you know what I mean."

"Why not?"

I thought about the question, really thought about it. "Well, you're... Ah, not my age," I said delicately. "And you're formal and proper and all the things you're probably supposed to be as the Minister of Magic. Are you really supposed to disappear into Muggle England for a night?"

"I expect I'll hear about it tomorrow," he replied, but he sounded unconcerned. "And I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't some sort of gossip about us."

I rolled my eyes at that. "There's always gossip about me." I managed to keep most of the bitterness out of my voice. Most of it. "I'm so boring that everything I do is subject to speculation. I went shopping with Harry for Teddy Lupin last week, right, because Harry's his godfather and I'm Harry's friend, and we do things together. The next day, I found out that I'm apparently having Harry's illegitimate child."

His deep, rich laugh filled my flat. "I noticed there was a retraction of that the following day."

"Yes, but only because Harry said something about it. I'm sure they'll have us eloping or something." I rolled my eyes again.

"I hope at least there won't be any more of these Victory Soirees now. At least until next year." He had a good point. If the Minister left the official function then maybe whoever was planning these things would have second thoughts when it came to planning the next one.

"That would be good," I said emphatically. "I'm about all victory-ed out for a while. If there is, though, I'll be here with my ice cream. We could go to the cinema or something. Don't worry, there are no Ferris wheels at the cinema."

His smile lit up his whole face as he got to his feet. "Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Kingsley." With a pop, he was gone.

I took my wand from my sleeve and reactivated the Anti-Apparation Charm. The night had gone completely differently than I'd expected it to, but it had been surprisingly nice. I hadn't ever thought the Minister of Magic would be a potential friend just because our lives were so different, but I'd really enjoyed spending time with him; he was intelligent and had a very wry sense of humor. And maybe he'd be able to stop the gossip columnists from speculating, even if he wasn't the great Harry Potter.


End file.
